Risks

So I have this best friend. She's indubitably beautiful and unmistakably talented. She never asks questions when it comes to being there for me and she makes being selfless seem effortless. She's just super snazzy from all angles.

She knows more about me than anyone else on the planet. That's what best friends are supposed to know though right? Alas, unfortunately so, I am not HER best friend. That's okay though, I never asked to be. I don't personally think I could handle that kind of responsibility. I mean, I think about the things I put on her and the things I expect. If the situation were to be reversed, I fully discern how scared I'd be of failing. After all, she deserves so much more than to have me as her "person" (I couldn't let the Grey's Anatomy reference slip away unused).

But I wouldn't hesitate if she filed the request.

Which begs the question: why can't I be honest with her? I hide so much. How I deal with being upset, how I really feel about myself. The risks I take. What I can never face. Secrets secrets secrets.

It's because I know she'd be ashamed.

The impeccably kind can only be stretched so far.

So I let her sleep without the burden of my depth.

And the world spins on.

"Nobody knows the trouble I've seen; nobody knows my sorrow" - Zazu (Disney's The Lion King)